


(Self harm warning!) Gaster sees your scars

by Greyphilosopher



Series: Undertale Drabbles. [1]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Cutting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gaster makes you stop., Hurt/Comfort, Self Harm, ambiguous reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 10:19:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19423972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greyphilosopher/pseuds/Greyphilosopher
Summary: Wanted to capture a certain feeling, not sure if I did so correctly.Reader is neutral over their scars, seeing them as simply something they do/did. Gaster has a look, and asks them to stop.Please proceed with caution, genuine, harsh depictions of self harm ahead. (Even if the piece itself is fluffy, the subject matter is dark.)





	(Self harm warning!) Gaster sees your scars

You fiddled with your sleeve, “My arms?”  
Gaster nodded. “Yes, if I may.” he said. Hands steepled neatly before him.

For a moment you processed the request, rolling it around in your head, before rolling up your sleeves calmly. Exposing the scars beneath.

It was bad. You recognised that well.  
From thin scratches to deep, red lines. Crossing and overlapping each other at random, erratic intervals. Some old, some new. Your arms were not pretty sight, that's why you hid them really. More for other's than yourself. You had lost feeling towards the marks; you'd never had any. You did what you needed to, to get yourself through and to keep breathing. Agreed, not the healthiest method, but what you had needed to survive? Called for more extreme methods than 'going on a walk' or 'talking to someone'. You didn't talk about it, the pain still a little fresh. But normal methods would not have helped you any.  
So you found a careful balance of self harm, introspection, mental skills and survival techniques to get through. You needed an addiction that would cause the right mental stimulus, was easy to manage and not difficult to get a hold of. Cutting, so happened to be that addiction.

Even so.

You knew you didn't need to do it any more. But some days, the desire calls, and you answer.

Gently the doc took your wrists, slowly brushing his thumbs across each, the rough texture of each scab scratching at his fingertips. Trailing up and down your forearms, running his hands across your skin; and every mark. His expression neutral.  
The clock ticked on dutifully.

“You say this was a calming technique for you?” He asked after some time.   
You hummed. “The repetitive motion, the pain was grounding.” He nodded. The quiet returning. For a long moment he explored your pulses, shifting your sleeves a little higher to see more.

When Gaster stopped, he leaned closer, turning your palm and placing it against his cheek with a smile.  
You giggled, brushing a thumb across the bone lovingly. Your eyes met briefly, before his eyes shifted, smile falling slightly. Swallowing and pursing his lips thoughtfully. Looking down into the table for a second, before his eyes returned to yours, smiling again, eyes hiding somber. 

He booped your nose.

You giggled again, louder, Gaster joining you. Both of you tittering like children.  
He let it linger there. Voice soft but stern, he looked you in the eye directly before speaking.  
“No more cutting.” 

You met his gaze. And nodded once. The Doctor's eyes softened a little in relief, smile returning a little more genuine. Leaning forward he hugged you as best he could, rubbing soothing circles into your back.

“You promise me?”  
“I promise.”


End file.
